


Step Into Christmas

by Drasna, KarleeKarma



Series: English Cottage 'Verse [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Smut, Comfort, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Light Angst, New Years, POV Dean Winchester, POV Female Character, Sam Winchester's Filthy Mouth, Smut, Song fic, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:48:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27714992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drasna/pseuds/Drasna, https://archiveofourown.org/users/KarleeKarma/pseuds/KarleeKarma
Summary: It's your first Christmas at the cottage with Sam. Dean is flying over to spend it with you and you can't wait to give both boys an honest to goodness family Christmas to remember!
Relationships: Sam Winchester/Reader, Sam Winchester/You
Series: English Cottage 'Verse [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1989421
Comments: 15
Kudos: 16





	1. It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays AO3 peeps, whatever/however you celebrate! 
> 
> So, lets have some lovely festive fun with Sam! This has been banging around in my head for a while, but I waited until December to post. Even though our household decorations have been up most of the month xD  
> This took me way longer than I expected because Sam needed to deal with some feelings as you'll see. So let me know what you think. Thank you as always for reading, kudos and comments. Y'all are wonderful <3 
> 
> Main Title from Step into Christmas by Elton John [link](https://youtu.be/IbRtGMm96F8)  
> Chapter Title from It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas written by Meredith Willson [click here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kPeCCOylvbE) to hear the version sung by Perry Como & The Fontane Sisters

**It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas  
Toys in every store  
But the prettiest sight to see is the holly that will be  
On your own front door**

The bedroom door bounced off the wall as you burst into the room. Sam was sprawled out on his stomach, naked. The sheets were wrapped around his waist and his face was obscured by the chocolate coloured hair spread all over the pillow. You walked to the end of the bed and watched him sleep for a few seconds, smiling tenderly at the rush of love you felt.

Then you remembered your mission. You grabbed hold of his foot and shook it, “Saaaaaaaaaaam!” you called. Sam came awake in a rush, tensing for a second before relaxing and groaning. He tried to burrow back into the pillows and ignore you but you gave his foot another shake. “Sam. C’mon. It’s the weekend. Get up.”

A grunt came from the hair. “Yeah, the _weekend_. So why are you in here waking me up?”

“The last weekend of November, Samuel. It’s decorating weekend!” You were bubbling with excitement. You couldn’t wait to go pick out a tree and decorations with Sam, to spend the day trimming up the house and settle down in the evening with twinkling lights and a Christmas movie. You knew Sam didn’t exactly share your enthusiasm. Christmas hadn’t been a big deal for the Winchester children. But this was the first year in your and Sam’s forever home and you were fiercely determined to give him some happy memories of Christmas and home. If he ever got out of bed, of course.

One giant sigh later and Sam rolled onto his back, pushed his hair out of his face and looked at you. He tried for a bitch face but failed as he took in your face. You beamed at him. You were already fully dressed and ready to leave.

“Okay sweetheart, give me half an hour to shower and dress. Then we can leave. We’re stopping for breakfast though.” 

29 minutes and 41 seconds later you both walked out of the door, Sam still mostly asleep. First stop was a cute little café in the village for breakfast and some very strong coffee for Sam. While you were both waiting for your food and Sam was gulping down coffee like he’d prefer to just mainline it, you struck up a conversation about the day’s plans and Sam’s preferences.

“So, real tree or fake tree? I don’t mind what colour decorations we have as long as there’s a colour scheme. Are we tinselling up the whole house or just the living room? What about outside lights?” You bombarded Sam with questions.

“Ummm. Don’t care, don’t care, whatever you prefer darling, ditto.”

“Saaaam!” you groaned.

“Sweetheart, Christmas isn’t my thing. You know that.”

“I know, but this is our first year in _our_ house. We get to make all the choices, invent traditions, and make it ours. We can go to the Disney store and buy Star Wars baubles if you like. Or put multi-coloured lights in every window. I really don’t mind, I just want to spend the day picking out things and then decorating the house with you.”

Sam’s face had softened as he watched you talk. You did know he didn’t care for Christmas. But you desperately wanted him to make some happy memories with you. You’d spent Christmases together of course, but this was _your_ house. No landlord to work around, no apartment neighbours to complain. Your perfect little cottage was all ready to be made shiny and festive. Dean would be joining you for the actual holidays and you really wanted both brothers to have a proper family Christmas. Sam had told you that he stopped celebrating after he’d left home, you assumed John stopped doing anything with Dean after Sam left as well. You knew John had always been home for the actual day but had never bothered doing anything special for the brothers, assuming his mere presence was gift enough.

As someone who’d grown up with a single mother who had moved heaven and earth to give you a magical day every year, complete with family time and a home-cooked meal, your heart broke for both Winchesters. As an adult now, your family was scattered around and you wouldn’t actually be seeing them for the big day. But there would be presents posted, phone calls and video calls, silly cards exchanged. Visits would be arranged in the weeks around the 25th as everyone coordinated schedules. You were totally ready to wrap Sam and Dean up in your festive spirit and show them how it could be.

Sam took another deep drink and put his cup down. “Okay sweetheart. Happy festive time.” He gave you a full dimpled smile. “I think fake tree, less work to maintain. I don’t want Star Wars ornaments but thank you for the offer. I don’t mind what ornaments we have so why don’t we see what we see, what takes our eye? If you want to festive up the whole house then go for it, I’d rather just do one room though. I have zero preference on outside lights. But I don’t want Mrs whatever-her-name-is from across the street banging the door down because they’re ‘too bright’ or ‘keeping her up’ or whatever.”

You laughed. Mrs Harris was the elderly lady who lived opposite you and had already got on Sam’s bad side by marching over to you both when you moved in, saying your moving van had shown up too early in the morning and woken her up. Since then it had been a stream of complaints that had driven Sam mad. You’d tried to explain the small village mentality to him but no joy. Now you just tried to keep them from seeing each other while rolling your eyes.

Once you’d both finished eating and Sam had polished off 2 more cups of coffee you left the café and set off to the nearest shopping centre. You both loved the rural village you lived in, liked the peace and countryside. But it did make in-person shopping a bit of a pain. But you cranked up the festive tunes on the drive and even got Sam singing along by the end.

“Okay, first mission: tree. Then we can come back and drop it in the car before we go back in for decorations.” You walked around the car to meet Sam and slipped your arm through his. He bumped his shoulder affectionately against yours as you set off walking.

You were glad to get inside the centre, it was cold and bleak outside. Snow was forecast and you wanted to be back home before the bad weather started. Pausing to look at the map you found the most likely shop for trees and headed for the stairs. The interior was fully decorated and made you feel all warm and festive. Lights twinkled and tinsel covered columns, bannisters and rails. There seemed to be a giant decoration in every spare bit of space. You passed reindeer, Santa, and snowmen, most of them lit up and moving on your way. You could sense Sam rolling his eyes but you loved it.

Stepping through the entrance of your goal shop you looked around. Knowing better than to try and get Sam to express an opinion you headed towards the displays of green trees of various sizes. You stood for a while, considering the amount of space you had at home and talked yourself down from the 7ft tree you were pining for. Sam stood silent as you looked at your options before drawing your attention to a realistic-looking 5ft tree with big fluffy branches.

“That one would look really nice in that alcove near the window I think.”

You smiled brightly at him, then stepped closer to the tree in question. You could visualise it in the space he’d mentioned perfectly.

“That’s the one then, grab a box, my handsome packhorse.”

Sam huffed and rolled his eyes before grabbing the box and moving to the checkout. You decided to wander the store a little and see if anything caught your eye. You came across a wooden carving of a moose with a little squirrel perched on its back. You picked it up to examine it as you felt Sam come up behind you.

“What have you found?”

You held out the carving, “Look isn’t it cute! I might get it for the house, not just for Christmas.”

“If you like that sort of thing babe. Anyway, wait here. I’m just going to drop this off at the car. Keys please.” Sam held out a hand. You passed him the keys and he walked off. You held on to your new decoration and carried on walking the shop. You didn’t see anything else but you did come up with an idea for a new tradition for you and Sam to share.

When Sam came back, you were waiting outside the shop with moose and squirrel tucked safely in a bag. Sam took your hand as you pointed in the direction of the next shop.

“So, I had an idea.”

“Oh yeah?” Sam glanced at you.

“When we’re done picking out the main decorations, let’s split up and pick out a bauble for each other. Like a little surprise for each other.”

Sam squeezed your hand, “Aww that’s a cute idea darling. I like it.”

You squeezed back, pleased he was on board. “When we get home I’m going to go online and order us a personalised one as well. Probably our names and the year. For our first year in our new home.”

“You’re a walking Pinterest board babe. But that’s cute as well.”

“Hush you. I just like collecting memories.” You poked him in the ribs, making him bend and fling out an arm, nearly clotheslining a little old lady walking past. You stopped walking and doubled over laughing while Sam blushed and apologised profusely to the lady. By the time he came back to your side he was beet red and sweating slightly. He pointedly didn’t take your hand again as you both started walking again, you still laughing.

He’d mellowed by the time you reached the next shop, you were still giggling to yourself.

“Sam Winchester, enemy of old ladies everywhere.” You teased. Sam flicked your nose before wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“Okay sweetheart, we’ve made it to the biggest glitter fest I’ve ever seen. Go wild!”

Feeling a little like a kid in a candy store you took a methodical walk up and down every aisle, getting a feel for what drew your eye. You wished you’d brought your notebook if you were honest. After the second, less detailed walkthrough, where you just focused on the things that jumped out at you, Sam stopped you back at the entrance.

“Okay, we’ve walked around this store twice now. You _must_ know what you want now.”

You tapped your chin thoughtfully, teasing him. “I think one more go-round and I should have a rough idea.” Sam’s face fell dramatically like you’d told him you were banning kale from the house. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. I know what I want. But before I go off, anything take your eye?”

“I saw some reindeer I liked, and some icicle drop things.” He started walking towards his picks.

“Okay well, I’m thinking a blue and silver colour scheme? A bit of colour in the living room?”

Sam nodded as he pointed out the reindeer decorations he liked. You grabbed them in both colours and placed them in his arms. You did the same with every other decoration you liked. Different sizes, shapes, designs all went into Sam’s arms. Then you started on bead strings, you debated over tinsel for a while, unsure what colour to buy.

“Baby stop. Stop!” Sam placed all the boxes at your feet. “I can’t carry the entire store. Do we need all of these? You’ve got two of everything.” He frowned at you

“Uhh, yes. We don’t have to use it all, but I’d rather have too much than a naked tree. What we don’t use I’ll box up for spares. Now, tinsel!”

Sam shook his head, “I hate tinsel, no tinsel. Those bead things you picked are fine. I’m going to get a cart.”

“What do you mean no tinsel, Sam!?” You called after him as he walked away. He was back within a minute and started moving the boxes into the cart.

“I mean, no tinsel. I don’t like it.”

You stared at him for a few seconds, “Okay… I think we’re breaking some kind of Christmas law here but fine. No tinsel. Right we need a star, some lights and our surprise picks and we’re done.”

Sam sagged in relief, grabbed the cart and gestured you onward. You both agreed on a solid silver star for the top of the tree. Lights went quickly as well, you opted for some simple multi-coloured flashing lights for the tree and some warm white lights for your windows. Nothing that could possibly offend prickly Mrs Harris.

“Okay, last thing. Let’s split up and pick something for each other. I’ll go first, wait here.”

Sam nodded and pulled out his phone, no doubt texting Dean about how over the top you were going with decorations. You headed straight for the novelty section you’d pasted earlier, already knowing what you wanted. A small fabric ornament made up of 7 books stood up on a single book laid on its side. Red, gold and white it didn’t match your colours at all, but it screamed Sam at you. The single book at the bottom had the words ‘I Cannot Live Without Books’ along the spine. Sam adored reading, both for work and pleasure. You’d spent many an afternoon curled up reading together. His ‘to read’ pile was bigger than yours and still, he bought more books. You were sure he would love it.

You hid your hand behind your back as you walked back to Sam. He was still engrossed in his phone.

“Boo!” You whispered in his ear, making him jump. “Okay I’m done, I’m gunna check this lot out while you go pick. Meet you outside the shop?”

“Sure thing sweetheart.” Sam gave you a light kiss before he walked off.

It took you a while to get everything checked out and Sam was the one waiting for you when you came out, loaded down with bags. He immediately started relieving you of them, leaving you with only the lightest.

“My perfect gentleman.” You batted your eyelashes at him as you both set off walking.

“You know it, baby.” He winked at you and gave you the full dimple smile.

You were shivering by the time you made it back to the car. The sky was grey and overcast, ready to blanket the ground in snow. Sam loaded up the boot while you started the engine and the heater. You went straight home, wanting to beat the weather and thinking of nothing but lighting a fire and making your home warm and cosy.

You helped unload the car and dumped everything in the living room before shutting the door tight and turning up the heating.

“Sam, brew before we start?” You called from the kitchen

“Yes please.” Came the reply. You heard the sounds of Sam setting up the fireplace while you waited for the kettle. When the drinks were made you went back to find Sam slumped on the couch, surrounded by bags and boxes. You passed over his mug and curled up next to him.

“Okay, brew and a break. I’m gunna look up the personalised ornaments.” Then its tree time!” You grabbed your laptop and loaded up Etsy, doing a quick search for personalised baubles.

“Hey, look what I just found.” You turned the laptop towards Sam to show him the wooden impala decoration you’d found. “You can have it engraved. Shall I get one for Dean, have them put Baby on it?”

Sam looked at the laptop and smiled. “Yeah, he’d like that. I can’t promise he won’t keep it in the actual car though, he doesn’t decorate for the holidays.”

You shrugged, “He can put it where he likes, I just think he needs it. It’ll go fab with that mixtape we made him.”

“Hey, I had nothing to do with that. If he gets mad, that’s all on you.”

You grinned, “I accept the consequences. That boy is entirely too close to that car and someone needs to bloody tell him. Via the medium of song! Besides, he’ll be stateside before he hears it because we don’t own a tape player, who still owns them besides your brother? Oh, should we get him an iPod dock or something?”

Sam shook his head violently, “No! Do not mess with his car. You know how he gets.”

You added the impala ornament to your basket and started to look at cute ‘first home’ and couple ornaments. You tried to get Sam’s input but the longer you looked the less responsive he got. Eventually, you shut the laptop and put it on the floor beside you.

“Alright, talk.” You turned to face Sam, crossing your legs on the sofa.

Sam looked at you with a frown. “Talk… what?”

“You’ve been in a funk since you woke up. So talk to me. What’s wrong?”

He sighed, “Nothing is wrong. I just don’t get the hype.”

You stared him down, one eyebrow raised.

“Look, it’s just… I don’t see the big deal with the holidays. It’s not like it’s our first Christmas together either. So I just don’t –” He stopped and ran a hand through his hair. You waited for him to continue. “It’s just another day for me now. I used to get excited every year when I was a kid. And Dean tried his best, he really did. But it just ended up with dad moping around where ever we were staying. We didn’t decorate or do food or watch Christmas movies. Eventually, I just gave up on getting excited. And now, I’m an adult. If I want something, I’ll buy it. If I want to get you a present, I’ll buy it. I don’t need a tree or lights or anything else.”

You looked at him, feeling your heart break for the little boy who was excited for a Santa who never came. You swallowed hard, fighting back the tears you knew wouldn’t help. You felt a surge of malice for John then. Your own mum had been on her own when you were young. But she’d made every effort for you and you hated John in that moment for neglecting his sons in just one more cruel way. 

You reached over and took Sam’s hands, cradling them in your much smaller ones.

“Sam –” Your voice cracked and you coughed to cover it and tried to get yourself under control. “Sweetheart. I hear what you’re saying. I swear I do. But please, let me show you how it can be.” You rubbed a thumb over his knuckles. “I know it’s not our first Christmas, I know we’re both grown-ups now. But the reason I’m making such a big deal about this is that this is the first year that is _ours_. We did it. All those years of moving round the states and living with nothing are over. This is our home. We finally have something to call ours. No more apartments with shitty neighbours, no more of the car and motels with Dean. This house is ours. We worked so fucking hard for it and we made it. And for me, Christmas is about family and home. I want to decorate the place because I want to curl up with you and have little twinkly lights everywhere because it’s December and that makes me happy. I wanna watch crap movies and Disney movies and Die Hard because that feels like home to me. I can’t wait for Dean to get here so we can be together again. I miss him, I know you do. He’s family and I want him in our home where it’s safe and warm and there’s no monsters to fight and nothing to do but drink, eat and laugh. I want – need you both to feel safe enough to relax.”

A tear tracked down your face as you took a deep breath. “The tree, the decorations, buying each other ornaments remind me of my childhood. And I want to share that with you. I can’t erase all those shit years with John, or the years you spent alone before we met. But I can wrap you and Dean up in my family’s traditions, show you how we do it. Try to give you just a little bit of that magic. Make memories so when someone says Christmas you think of this house, our tree, our table, me showing Dean the ‘proper’ way to carve a turkey, the look on his face when I force him into a paper hat. Of family. Our family.”

You looked at him, saw his eyes shimmering. “I won’t force you into anything. I am gunna decorate the house, but if you don’t want to be involved that’s fine. If you want Christmas Day to be low key then that’s what we will do. I’m only asking you to let me try.”

Sam pulled you forward, tumbling you into his lap and wrapping his arms around you. You manoeuvred your legs until you were sat across his lap with your head tucked into his neck. You felt Sam’s shuddering breaths and the drops of his tears into your hair as he held you tightly. You kissed his shoulder lightly, wrapped your arms around his neck and just let him hold you. You hummed soothingly as you ran your fingers through the thick hair that just spilled over his shoulders.

It took a while, but slowly Sam relaxed under you. His breath evened out again and you heard the sniffs of him trying to cover up his tears. You pulled back from his shoulder and smiled at him. He smiled back as he wiped his face.

“Thank you. You’re amazing and I love you so fucking much.”

You pressed your lips to him in a soft kiss. “I love you too, my darling. So very much.” You settled back into his shoulder and closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of just being with Sam.

You knew it was hard for him to open up about his childhood and you knew, no matter how put together he was now, that Sam had his share of demons he would never get rid of. Christmas might have been a small issue, but trusting people not to let him down, you weren’t sure anyone but Dean would ever have his complete trust there. You understood you knew Sam trusted you as much as he could, and he tried his best when his insecurities flared up. Moments like this came up every so often and all you could do was be open and honest with him and let him set the pace going forward.

“Hey, do you want to see what I picked for you?” You asked. Sam nodded and you slipped off his lap to hunt through the bags until you found it. You hid it as you climbed back into his lap. “Okay eyes closed.” Sam obediently shut his eyes and held out a hand. You dropped the little ornament into his giant palm.

Sam cracked an eye and looked down, face breaking into a smile. “Aww sweetheart, I love it!”

You grinned at him, “I thought you would. We can’t have a tree that represents us without some books, can we? You really like it?” Sam kissed your nose and pressed his forehead to yours.

“I love it. And I feel like an ass because yours is so sweet and mine really is not.”

You pulled away, “What bag is it in. Show, show, show!” You bounced out of his lap and started rummaging through the bags. Sam stood behind you as you went through each bag and came up empty. He laughed and reached behind the sofa cushions to pull out a small paper bag.

“As if I’d put it in with the rest of the stuff. Here you go, baby.” He handed you the bag and you tipped it into your palm. There sat a shiny silver round bauble. You turned it over and the words ‘Merry Fucking Christmas’ greeted you, spelt out in black glitter. You looked at Sam, face cracked into a huge smile. He grinned back. “In honour of your favourite word.”

“Aww, baby you know me so well!” You went and wrapped your arms around Sam, squeezing him tightly. “Thank you, I love it!” Sam hugged you back and pressed a kiss to your head.

“So, about this tree, darling?”

You broke apart and started sorting through the bags and boxes, deciding what would go where. Sam loaded up a Christmas playlist and moved to help you. Together you put the tree up, fluffed out all the branches and checked the space it needed to fit in. Then you swore your way through the lights, Sam mostly laughing and not helping you as you got more and more tangled up. Then all the different bead strings you’d bought. You had to admit, they did look nicer than tinsel but you still felt like the lack of tinsel was a sin.

Before you started on the baubles you put the books and the swear ornaments on first. You left a space between them for your couple ornament, still to be chosen. Sam seemed to really enjoy the actual bauble placement. He shared your love of order and the tree was a symmetrical dream of silver and blue. You both got into the songs, singing along as you weaved between each other around the tree, Sam’s rich voice harmonising with yours over the classics and the more modern songs.

You had to stand and listen to Sam’s beautiful rendition of White Christmas, bauble forgotten in your hand. Sam only ever sang for himself, never an audience. While you were more likely to be theatrical, Sam sang like he was the only one in the room. It was beautiful and moving and almost set you crying again. When the song finished he looked over at you, blushing slightly.

“I fucking love you, Sam Winchester.”

Sam blushed a touch redder and gave you the gold star, full dimpled smile before moving on with his decorating.

Before long the tree was done and only the star was left.

“Okay, family tradition time. We both put the star on together.” You held it out and Sam wrapped his fingers around yours to place the star on top of the tree. The silver reflected the softly flashing lights of the tree and completed the whole picture. You came to stand next to Sam and wrapped an arm around his waist.

“We did good, it’s lovely.”

Sam wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you in. “We did. I like it. Shall I put it in place?” You nodded and he moved the tree, carefully into its intended alcove. Like he’d said earlier in the day, it did look really nice.

You stood back and surveyed the scene. Dusk had taken over outside while you were working and the room was dim, lit only by the fire and the lights of the tree. It looked like you’d imagined it and a rush of emotion filled your chest. Nostalgia, love, happiness and comfort all welled up inside you as you considered the holidays of the past and the memories you would make this year with Sam. You couldn’t wait.

Turning away to pack up the boxes of spares and unused baubles you found the bag with your carving in it. Pulling out the moose and squirrel you placed them on the mantelpiece. Sam finished adjusting the tree and looked over, pulling a face.

“Still think that’s a bit weird, darling.”

“Shush, I like them. I’m gunna name the moose Sam and the squirrel Dean.” You stuck your tongue out childishly.

Sam sighed, well used to you naming random things around the house. “If that makes you happy baby. If that makes you happy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you would like to hear Jared Padalecki singing White Christmas with Jason Manns click [here!](https://youtu.be/Jy6fJpX33qQ)  
> Feel free to swoon, I do :)


	2. Underneath the Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wrapping presents leads to a small anxiety attack. Sam is on hand to calm and relax. Smut ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi folks! Still sending those Happy Holiday wishes to y'all. 
> 
> A small note about the content of this chapter. I hope everyone who reads this is in good mental health, but I am aware some of you may not be.  
> To those that are, the breakdown that comes from running out of wrapping paper may seem dramatic or over the top. You may feel I've exaggerated and it's too far. I promise it is not. This exact situation has happened to me more than once, over tiny little issues like this. It's very difficult to explain how anxiety and mental health can make you react to different things. 
> 
> To those who are not feeling as good mentally: consider this a trigger warning. I tried to keep things low key and not into a full blown panic attack, but I'm giving a warning just in case. I want everyone to leave these works feeling all warm and fuzzy, not stressy stress stressed. 
> 
> Also, I am in no way implying that distracting someone with sex is an appropriate response to someone experiencing an anxiety/panic attack. Do not do this IRL. My intent is to show the relationship between the reader and Sam, that he knows how to intervene in a safe way and that she trusts him and feels safe with him. The sex is a happy byproduct of Sam being a good partner who is able to calm her down correctly. 
> 
> With all that said, enjoy the smut y'all. 
> 
> Chapter title taken from Kelly Clarkson's Underneath the Tree. [link](https://youtu.be/1xy34BYxXsw)

**I found what I was looking for, A love that's meant for me  
A heart that's mine completely, Knocked me right off my feet  
And this year I will fall, With no worries at all  
'Cause you are near and everything's clear  
You're all I need  
Underneath the tree**

Sam came home from his morning run as you started the hunt for scissors and tape. He got out of the shower to hear you moving the presents to be wrapped into the living room. He heard you muttering as he came downstairs. He entered the room as you unleashed a torrent of abuse into the air.

“- fucking bastard things. Stop fucking moving every time I put you down you fucks. Where the – there you are! Bastard things.” You slammed the scissors down next to the tape and pen as you re-measured the box you were wrapping.

“Do you want a hand darling?” Sam smirked.

“No! You wrap like arse. I just need to get this lot wrapped today so I can post them.” You felt for the scissors; mercifully where you’d left them this time. You proceeded to wrap the present before reaching for where you’d left the pen. Nothing.

“For the love of fucking fuck. Why is nothing where I leave it?” You looked around, found the pen and started writing out the gift label. The room was quiet apart from the sound of the pen and the soft Christmas music you had playing.

Sam watched you in amusement for a while, mostly working quickly with occasional outbursts when something wasn’t where you left it. It wasn’t long before you realised you didn’t have enough wrapping paper for the rest of the pile.

“Oh for –” You cut yourself off and looked at the ‘to wrap’ pile in dismay. You knew you should have bought that extra roll.

“You okay babe?” Sam looked at you with a raised eyebrow over the book he’d picked up.

“No. I’m gunna run out of paper. Fuck!”

He frowned, “So, get some more next week?”

“No. I need these presents wrapped today so I can write cards tonight so it can all be boxed up and taken to the post office tomorrow. I need paper now Sam, not next week.”

Sam put his book aside, “Alright sweetheart, it’s okay. We’ll go get some paper now then. C’mon.” He held out a hand to you.

You took it, feeling his immense strength as he pulled you to your feet as if you weighed nothing. “God I’m such a fucking idiot. I knew I needed more paper and I didn’t bloody buy it. Now it’s gunna take me even longer to wrap all this shit.”

Sam grabbed your shoulders and pulled you into a hug. “Hey, sweetheart it’s fine. It’s just paper. We’ll get some more, I’ll help you write the cards tonight. It’s fine.”

You buried your head into his chest, “It’s really not. It’s Sunday. We do dinner and a movie on Sundays. Now I’m gunna be busy finishing all this stuff off and writing poxy cards and we’re not gunna be able to do our Sunday thing and –”

Sam cut you off, “Shhhh. Shh, its totally fine baby. C’mon, breathe.” He ran a hand up and down your spine. You tried to take a breath, still feeling the anxiety and panic running through you.

As much as you loved the holiday season, you found it very stressful. With family and friends scattered everywhere sending presents was a logistical nightmare. You made strict plans and schedules to keep yourself sane and even a minor setback like this – losing part of your day to buy more supplies could push you over the edge.

Sam began to sway with you in his arms, humming along with the music you’d tuned out. The gentle motion along with his hand running down your spine began to soothe the anxiety you felt. He dropped a kiss to the top of your head.

“That’s it, sweetheart, just breathe. It’s totally fine.” He kissed your head again, still swaying you. The song changed to Kelly Clarkson’s Underneath the Tree and he started to sing along and dropped his hands to your hips, effectively slow dancing with you. His steady movements didn’t exactly fit the speed of the song but you couldn’t help wrapping your arms around his shoulders and dancing with him.

 _“But then, one day, everything changed. You're all I need. Underneath the tree_ _”_ He sang as you made eye contact, smiling down at you. His rich voice reverberated through your chest as he held you. You joined in the song with him, voices harmonising as you both swayed in place, in the part of the floor not covered in presents and wrapping paraphernalia. You relaxed totally in his hold, presents and wrapping paper and your anxiety forgotten in Sam’s arms. Arms that felt like home, like safety. Arms that picked you up when you fell, arms that held you up when you felt weak. Arms that had held you in your darkest moments and your happiest. Arms you never wanted to be without.

The song ended and you pushed up onto tiptoe to press your lips to his, trying to convey all your love and gratitude through the kiss. Sam took your face in his hands, thumbs brushing your cheekbones as his fingertips tangled in your hair. He held you for a second before diving in and kissing you deeply, tongue dancing with your own. Your heart pounded, you never stopped craving the feeling of his mouth on yours. He always made you feel so delicate and cherished. Small, but not weak.

You moaned into the kiss and Sam dropped a hand to the small of your back, to pull you into him. You moaned again as the hard length of him pressed into you. Holding you tightly Sam walked you back to the sofa, before turning to pull you into his lap. You broke apart as you landed in his lap, knees on either side of his hips, his length pressing into you through the soft cotton of your sweats. You rolled your hips down into him, making him groan.

Sam cupped one side of your face again, drawing you down into another kiss as his hand travelled under your shirt. His skin was warm against your own as his large hand pressed into your lower back to pull you in closer to his body so he could rock up into you. You moaned into the kiss, feeling him hard and throbbing beneath you.

He broke the kiss and used both hands to push your top up and over your head, tossing it aside. Immediately dropping his hands and mouth to your breasts to squeeze and kiss, swapping between them as he teased your nipples with his tongue and teeth. You moaned and squirmed in his lap, hands bunched in his hair. He groaned against your skin when you tugged it, rolling his eyes up to meet yours as he took one aching bud between his teeth and bit down slowly.

“Fuck! Sam, _please!”_ You begged. He released your abused flesh and soothed it with soft licks. He slid a hand down your stomach and into your sweats, finding you wet and ready. Kissing his way back up towards your neck and jaw he slid two fingers inside you.

“God, princess, so wet for me already.” You threw back your head and rolled your hips, shamelessly riding his fingers. “That’s it. Cum all over my hand so I can fill you up.” You pitched forward as he rubbed his thumb over your clit, grabbing onto his shoulders and clenching around his fingers as he pushed you closer. “C’mon baby, wanna be inside you. Gonna fill you up so fucking deep.” Your thighs shook as Sam pushed you closer and closer, nipping his way up your neck, stubble scratching your heated flesh. A kiss behind your ear and his low voice whispering, “Now, princess.” And you saw stars. You dug your fingers into the muscles of his shoulders as you clamped down around his fingers and moaned long and loudly. 

Sam worked you though it until you were lax in his arms before extracting his hand from you and making a show of licking his fingers clean. Watching him lap up your cum, eyes closed in enjoyment made your stomach clench with arousal again.

Carefully you stood, shimmying your sweats down over your hips to pool onto the floor. Sam watched you with dark eyes and he slid his bottoms down to free his throbbing cock. You watched for a minute as he worked himself with sure strokes, hips involuntarily jerking with his movements.

You moved forward and knelt over Sam. He held himself still for you to sink down on, taking all of him in one go. You both moaned as he bottomed out, filling you perfectly.

“Fuck Sam, you’re so big. You fill me up so fucking deep.” You braced your hands on his shoulders again as you rolled your hips. Sam thrust up into you and you set a rhythm between you. His hands were tight on your hips as he helped you move with him. You captured his face in your hands and leaned in to kiss him, messy and sloppy and perfect. You nipped his bottom lip as you pulled away, making him curse.

Reaching a hand between you, you rubbed your swollen clit. Sam leaned you back for a better view, keeping a tight hold on your hips to keep you steady. You braced your free hand on his knee and worked your fingers faster.

“So hot princess. Fuck love watching you play with that pretty pussy.” Sam’s thrusts got harder as he chased his own end. “Let me see baby, let me watch you cum on my cock.” You moaned, right on the edge and with one more hard thrust from Sam you fell. Sam gripped you tight and pulled you forward as you started to orgasm. The change in angle hit that perfect spot inside you and set off another wave of pleasure that had you screaming, fists clenched in Sam’s shirt.

Sam stiffened under you, moaning out his own release. You dropped your head onto his shoulder, panting. Sam’s arms came up to wrap around your body and pull you in tight. He ran a hand through your hair and let you catch your breath.

“Fucking fuck! I’m dead. You fucked me to death.”

Sam laughed, the sound reverberating through your chest. You lifted your head to look him, hazel eyes shining gold in the winter sun flooding the room. You tucked his hair behind his ear, smiling as his bangs fell straight back into his eyes, unable to be contained. Your throat tightened as a rush of love filled you and you blinked away tears. You cupped his jaw, feeling the way he leaned into your touch. You didn’t have words for the depth of your feelings for Sam. He was it for you. Your other half. Soulmate. Any other words you could think of.

He frowned as you gazed at him, “You okay sweetheart?”

You kissed him lightly. “Perfect.”


	3. Merry Christmas Everyone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You show Sam the outfit you picked for Christmas Day. Sam likes it. _Really_ likes it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some nice smutty fun. No angst. No anxiety, panic or sads. Just nice wholesome smut. And Sam in a santa hat. Enjoy!
> 
> Chapter title taken from Merry Christmas Everyone by Shakin' Stevens [link](https://youtu.be/N-PyWfVkjZc)

**We're gonna have a party tonight**   
**I'm gonna find that girl underneath the mistletoe**   
**We'll kiss by candlelight**

“Sam, come see the outfit I bought for Christmas day!” You called across the house from the bedroom. Sam’s footfalls sounded before he appeared in the doorway.

“Why do you need a ‘Christmas Day outfit’?” He asked, complete with air quotes.

“Because it’s Christmas… Sooooo fancy outfits. At least for part of the day. You can change into PJs after dinner for all I care. I got jumpers for you and Dean!” You turned to face him in time to see his face fall. You rummaged in your bags on the bed and pulled out 2 jumpers. You tossed one to Sam while you shook out the other and held it up. It was a deep blue with white accents. Led Zeppelin spelt out across the front under the multi-coloured heads of the band members. White music notes covered the bulk of the blue, while a banner of guitars and drums went around the waist above the lines of snowflakes and trees that lined the hem of the jumper. You cocked an eyebrow at Sam as you spun the jumper around to show Sam the back. Led Zeppelin again spelt out, this time above the symbols the band members used to represent themselves.

Sam grinned, “Dean will love that.”

Beginning to refold the jumper, you grinned back. “Yeah, I thought so. Check yours out.”

Sam shook his own jumper out and grinned as the design was revealed. A Stark direwolf from Game of Thrones covered the front of the black jumper wearing a red Rudolph nose and Santa hat. Surrounded by snowflakes the direwolf sat between the phrase ‘Christmas Is Coming’. White trees lined the top and bottom of the white image, with larger white snowflakes lining the arms. Sam loved the Game of Thrones TV show and loved the books even more.

“See. And you pulled out the bitch face like I was gunna make you dress up like Christmas puddings. I know the pair of you.” You caught the jumper as Sam tossed it back and folded that one up too, placing both back into the bag and off to one side.

Sam came up behind you and pressed himself into your back, dropping a kiss to your neck. “You do, darling, they’re fab. You might even get Dean to wear that one.”

“Have you met me?” You scoffed, “Dean will put on the jumper and smile for pictures because he looooooooves me. I’m his favourite almost-sister-in-law. And because I’ll hide his whisky otherwise. And you know I bought him the fancy stuff.”

Sam snorted a laugh into your neck. “You’re cruel.”

“It’s real simple, wear the jumper, get the alcohol. I want some nice photos with you guys this year. Preferably without flannel.”

Sam tightened his arms around your waist. “You love my flannel.”

You pressed your head back onto his shoulder. “Yeah, it looks great on me.” 

Sam pulled you in closer, subtly rolling his hips into you. “Damn right it does. You look fucking hot wearing my clothes.”

You rolled your eyes. Sam had a _thing_ for you wearing his clothes. It had started a long, long, long, time ago when you’d grabbed a shirt from the floor one chilly morning. The fabric had buried you, coming almost to your knees and falling off a shoulder but Sam had loved it. Had sat you on the kitchen counter and fucked you there and then. Since then it had been your go-to move. Wanna get Sam in the mood? Raid his closet. It helped that you loved wearing his t-shirts to bed and his flannel shirts when you were feeling off and wanted some comfort.

You pulled away from Sam slightly, but he pulled you straight back in. “Hey, handsy. I’m trying to show you my outfit.”

“So show me, I’m not stopping you.” He nuzzled your neck.

You sighed and pulled your dress out of its bag. You pulled out the tights you’d bought to go with it and finally a headband with a cute little Santa hat on it. You laid everything on the bed and gestured to it.

“Since you won’t let go I can’t model it but this is the general idea.”

Sam leaned his chin on your shoulder and made an approving noise at the dress and the tights before his eyes landed on the headband. “There had better not be one of those in there for me. I draw the line at headbands. Sweater yes, headband no.”

“Well, now you mention it…” You delved into the bag again. Sam stiffened behind you as you pulled out an ordinary Santa hat. You felt him relax again behind you. You turned in his arms and reached up to put the hat on him. “They had these really cute antlers but I thought you’d prefer being the big guy.” You ran a hand over the hat and flipped the bobble so it wasn’t hanging in his face. “Hey, it suits you.” You kissed his cheek.

Sam stepped backwards, still holding onto you, so he was in view of the mirror. He smiled at you in the reflection as he took in the hat.

“Okay, I’ll wear the hat. Did you get Dean one too?”

You grinned evilly. Slipping out of his arms you dug through the bags again and pulled out a red and green elf hat. With bells. And ears. You held it up for Sam who threw back his head and howled with laughter. Tears ran down his cheeks as he struggled for breath. “Oh. Oh, he’s gonna kill you. Oh, you have to let me be there when you give it to him. I need to record it.”

You laughed with Sam as you threw the hat back on the bed and started undressing. Sam’s laughter abruptly stopped and he turned dark eyes to you.

“What are you doing?”

“Showing you my outfit, now you’ve finally put me down, Handsy.” You shrugged as you kicked off your leggings and pulled your top over your head.

“Keep taking your clothes off princess and I’m gonna pick you right back up and bend you over this bed.” His voice was deep and sent a shiver down your spine.

“Hold your horses for five minutes. I think you’ll like this outfit.” You sat on the edge of the bed to pull the tights on. Black with silver snowflakes covering them. “Patience young padawan.”

Standing you pulled the tights into place and grabbed the dress. A red swing dress with longs sleeves, it was designed to mimic the traditional Santa outfit with white trim around the hem, sleeves, and neckline. A wide black belt around your waist completed the outfit. You took a second to slide the headband on, giving you an adorable little hat to finish off the look. You turned back to Sam and held out your arms.

“Well?” You cocked your head to one side.

Sam’s eyes were dark, pupils blown with lust. You could see the crotch of his jeans straining.

“Get over here. Now.” His voice was strained now.

You went delving into the bags one last time. “Okay, shut your eyes a second.”

Sam growled.

“I’m coming, I’m coming. Just… shut your eyes for like 5 seconds please.”

Sam glared at you but obliged. You took the steps across the room to stand a few inches in front of him. He reached out to grab your hips but kept his eyes shut. You stood on your tiptoes and reached up as high as you could with one arm, the other on his shoulder for balance.

“Okay open.”

Sam opened his eyes to the sprig of mistletoe just above his forehead; as high as you could reach, even on tiptoe. He smiled at you before leaning down to capture your lips with his in a sweet kiss. You tossed the mistletoe in the direction of the bed as you brought your arms to wrap around Sam’s neck. He kept the kiss sweet for a few more seconds before moving his hands from your hips to under your bum. You felt his arms tense in warning before he was lifting you and pressing you into the wall, holding you in place with his hips.

You broke the kiss and gasped as you were lifted, the noise turned into a moan as you hit the wall and felt his length press into you. As soon as you were secure, Sam captured your lips again, this time with desperation. He rolled his hips into you as he explored your mouth. You gripped his arms, feeling the muscles bulge as he held you up effortlessly. Your legs automatically locked around his hips, pulling him closer and making you both moan.

Sam broke away from the kiss to nip his way down your jawline. You threw back your head to give him more space, prompting him to kiss and suck his way along your neck.

“You can’t just spring things like this on me, princess. I thought I was gunna bust out of my jeans. Do you have any idea how fucking gorgeous you look? Fuck I might never let you out of this room.” Sam’s voice was low and rumbling, whispering in your ear as he ground into you.

You giggled, a little breathless. “You like it then?” Sam bit into your neck, making you inhale sharply before moaning as he licked the sting away.

“Take those tights off before I rip them off and I’ll show you how much I fucking like it.” Sam pulled back from you, lowering you to the ground but keeping hold of your hips to make sure you were steady. You moved to pull the fabric down but Sam beat you to it.

He dropped to his knees, running his hands up your thighs to grab the waistband of the tights and your underwear and smoothly pulling them down your skin. He helped you step out of them before turning his face up to you as he ran his hands back up your legs.

As always, the sight of him on his knees for you made your stomach swoop and your legs go weak. When he reached the hem of the dress he pushed it up with his hands until he was face to face with your bare pussy. Sam dropped a kiss to the top of your slit, making you hiss. You went to grab a fistful of his hair before remembering the Santa hat. Cursing, you balled up your fists as Sam lifted one leg to drape it over his shoulder, opening you up to him. He kept one hand on your hip to hold you steady and hold your skirt out of the way. He used his other to dip two fingers between your folds, finding you wet and ready for him. He brought them to his mouth and brazenly made a show of licking them clean, pink tongue running over every bit of skin while he held eye contact with you.

You pressed your head back into the wall as your eyes closed and lust shot up your spine. Sam chuckled before returning his fingers to you, this time pushing two inside you and making you gasp. As his fingers moved inside you Sam licked and sucked at your clit, using every trick he knew to send to flying towards the edge of oblivion. You were a panting mess, desperate for something to hold on to as your legs shook. Sam looked up at you again and slowly and deliberately ran his tongue over your clit again. The flash of his tongue working you over pushed you over the edge, the visual sending fire up your spine as you clenched and pulsed around Sam’s fingers. Like always he worked you through the shockwaves, dragging them out as long as possible. When he was sure you were done he gently placed your leg back on the ground and immediately undid his jeans, groaning at the relief from the pressure.

He pushed himself up to full height, pulling his boxers down and freeing his length. He stroked himself a few times, watching you watch him before releasing himself and grabbing your wrist. Sam pulled you over to the end of the bed and put a hand between your shoulder blades to push you forward. You took the hint and climbed fully onto the bed, positioning yourself on all fours. Sam stepped in between your feet and flipped your skirt up, exposing you to him.

He ran his fingers through your folds again, groaning at how wet you were. He teased you for a few seconds before pulling his fingers out and you heard the familiar sucking sounds. Then you felt the head of him teasing at your entrance. You were about to turn and glare at him when his hand tightened on your hip and he pushed himself all the way in.

You cried out as he filled you, thick and deep and perfect. Sam groaned behind you, gripping both hips tightly.

“ _Christ!_ So good for me princess. So fucking good.” He held your hips still, not letting you move, forcing you to take what he was giving you. You grabbed fistfuls of the sheets beneath you as you panted and moaned.

“That’s it, sweetheart. You’re so tight around me. Fuck. Not gunna last, that fucking outfit. God, you don’t even know. How. Stunning. You. Are.”

Sam punctuated his words with thrusts before tensing as he spilled into you. You stayed on your hands and knees, letting him thrust into you as he milked out his own orgasm. Once he released your hips you collapsed on to your stomach, catching your breath.

Sam threw himself onto the bed next to you, flat on his back and flushed with sweat. His hat finally gave up and fell onto the bed above him. You reached out a hand and patted around until you found his hand, face still buried into the sheets.

“You okay?” Sam asked as he squeezed your hand.

You mumbled a yes into the sheet before turning your head to face him.

“Well, now I need to wash these clothes.” You mock frowned.

“I’m not sorry sweetheart. Fuck. I won’t be able to leave you alone on Christmas day. Dean will have to bleach his eyeballs.”

“I plan to feed and water Dean into a food coma. I’m sure we’ll be able to find 10 minutes to spare, Winchester.”

“Oh, I want more than 10 minutes with you, princess.” Sam winked at you.

You squeezed his hand again and smiled at him. “You’ve got me forever, Sam. But you do have to put me down occasionally. I have to eat and sleep y’know.”

“Details, details.” Sam laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean's Jumper: [link](https://247teeshirt.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/10/Led-Zeppelin-Band-3D-Ugly-Christmas-Sweater.jpg)  
> Sam's Jumper: [link](https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/71SWbPhr6-L._AC_UX342_.jpg)


	4. Why do you think I drive everywhere, Sam?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean Invades the UK for Christmas with Sam and Reader - God Bless Us, Everyone!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little collab with Karlee - really me just popping into her story and invading her space for a while. But, it was fun to write up a little bit about Dean on a plane. And, I've been bingeing "Fleabag" lately. So, this is what I came up with. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> Thank you, Karlee, for all the wonderful holiday feels you want to shower on our boys.

Dean was on his third shot of Jack Daniels on the international flight. Newark to Heathrow.

_ Almost eight fucking hours. Only two hours in. _

It didn’t matter how many times he grinned at the flight attendant. If she came around again, she was probably going to refuse to get him another.

_ Them’s the rules. _

Why did he agree to this again? 

_ Oh, yeah. Because Sammy asked. Because I haven’t seen him in over a year. And because Spitfire wants us all to have Christmas together in their new place. _

Pre-flight, he’d downed a few shots in the terminal restaurant and indulged in an angus cheeseburger with bacon and onion straws. In case it would be his last meal. And, normally, all that booze, beef, and bacon would have him drifting off like a goddamn baby lickety split.

_ But, apparently, there will be no drifting off at a cruising altitude of 34,000 feet above the Atlantic Ocean. _

He cursed himself for not seriously entertaining the idea of taking a Valium or Xanax. If there was anytime to become a pill popper, his fear of flying should have been the ultimate reason to start.

The cabin jostled with more turbulence. Dean clamped his hand around the thin plastic cup, downed the liquid gold, and tipped back into the headrest. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. And the racing of his heart.

_ Fucking mindfulness bullshit. Gonna kick Sam’s ass for falling in love with a Brit. _

His white knuckle grip on the shared armrest caused an audible sigh from his neighbor. A large teddy bear of a guy, he spilled over into Dean’s area like warm taffy. Normally, he’d be all irritated about personal space. But the fleshy give felt nice against the back of his hand. If Dean got any more intimate with the dude, he’d have to start flirting.

“Excuse me.”

Dean opened his eyes to the voice above him.

A doe-eyed, tall and lanky thing of a woman, with a bob of dark brown curls, stood to his left in the aisle. She had a nose sharp enough to cut a man. A pencil thin top lip almost disappeared to display a row of pearly whites and a bit of gum when she smiled.

“Excuse me.” She said again. Dean realized she was trying to get his neighbor’s attention. 

The man looked up from his book and gave her a curious expression.

“Hello.” She gave him a quick wave and leaned on the seat in front of Dean. “I’m so sorry to bother you.”  _ English accent? _ Damn if Dean was going to try and figure out where she might be from. He was too busy wondering if the plane could float if it had to make a water landing. She invaded Dean’s space. He got a whiff of vanilla. “My boyfriend and I weren’t able to get adjoining seats. I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind switching.” She pointed behind her to the left. “I’m just a row up front here. Aisle seat.” She wagged an eyebrow and tossed her head back in an inviting fashion. “Bit more leg room for ya.”

Dean closed his eyes again, tried to listen to his breathing and drown out the ever present hum of the airplane.  _ Maybe your boyfriend on the other end of this middle row wants some peace and quiet. Ever think that was his plan? _

A set of fingers curled over Dean’s left shoulder and shot his eyes open.

“He’s such a nervous flyer.” She tisked and looked down at Dean, giving him a soft shoulder rub. “Aren’t you, sweetie? It would be really helpful if I sat next to him. He’s too shy to ask himself.”

_ What the hell? _

The man nodded in silent acquiescence and unwedged from the seat.

“Thank you.” She stood up and stepped back to clear the aisle.

Dean got a faceful of warm, dress-pant covered male ass.  _ No. Don’t go. Please. We were just getting to know each other. _ Two seconds later, a short tight black skirt with legging-wrapped, muscled stilts squeezed past his bow legs. An “oof” followed when the woman settled into the seat next to him. He turned, hit in the face with a shit eating grin. “What the hell, lady?” He murmured.

Her smile dropped, lips pursed, and she held a finger tight to her mouth. A tiny clink at her side between them got his attention. She passed him two tiny liquor bottles. “Snuck these off the cart for you when I went to the loo.”

_ Maybe I’m hallucinating. _

“You’ve been moaning and groaning for the past two hours.” She continued as if they had known each other for years. “Haven’t been able to watch any telly with all that... distraction behind me. Drink up. Please.” She tapped the screen in front of her, lighting it up with a menu of choices. A white set of corded headphones materialized in her other palm and plugged into the jack. “I’ve got some pills if you need them, but probably not best to mix with alcohol at this point.”

“Thanks?”

She grinned again, popping the buds into her ears. She had a weird Audrey Hepburn vibe. Not at all petite in stature, clunky in her movements. But, she had elegant features. High cheekbones, big brown-black eyes and long lashes. “Be a good boy and try to keep quiet, ya? Unless you want to entertain me and tell me your life story.” She arched a brow. “We’ve got time.”

*

“Younger siblings can be the worst. I should know, I am one.” A half an hour later and Felicity had not picked anything to watch on the monitor.

Dean shook his head. “Nah, Sam’s alright. Always been headstrong. Smart when he takes risks. And, even if he isn’t smart about them, usually does it for a damn good reason.” He spotted a curious corkscrew of her lips. “What?”

“Almost sound like his dad.”

Dean shrugged. “Older siblings can be the worst. I should know, I am one.” Another bounce of the plane drew air between clamped teeth. “Shit.” He murmured. “Tell me something else.”

Felicity laughed. It was somewhere between a chuckle and a giggle. “Well, I was on holiday in the states for a week.”

“On your own?” Dean rubbed sweaty palms over his jean covered thighs.

She nodded.

“Where’d you go?”

“Stuck to the East Coast. New York, mainly. A short stop in DC before the flight out of New Jersey. I would’ve loved to visit California. But not in my budget. The trip was a present from my Dad. A sort of congratulations for my Cafe doing well. My family isn’t big on physical acts of affection, so it’s all envelopes with gifts and pats of ‘Job Well Done, Darling’. Not like you lot. So many hugs. It’s off putting.”

Dean chuckled. “Not every American is like that.”

“Enough are. I bet you’re a hugger.” Her bony elbow pressed into his forearm.

“On occasion.” He confessed, then flipped the topic back. “So, you have your own business?”

“A little Cafe not too far from my flat. In Dartmouth Park. Not that you’d have a clue where that is.”

“Nope.” His stomach somersaulted at another dip.

“Do you even know where your brother lives?”

“Uh-uh. Just been given an address in case of emergency. All I know is Sam’s Spice Girl is coming to get me at the airport.”

Felicity offered him another bag of gummies. That would be the third round of offerings from her.

“Thanks. How many goodies can you fit in there?” He poked at her purse, then tore into the pouch and shook a handful into his mouth.

She raised an eyebrow. “How many goodies can you fit in there?” She circled a finger near his chin.

He chuckled around the gelatin bears being masticated. “Wouldn’t you like to know.” He teased, mouth full.

“I might.” She shot back, then launched into more talk before Dean had a chance to retort. “Which Spice Girl is she? Sam’s lady love?”

Dean pondered, chewing away. After a solid swallow, he answered. “I’d say she’s a mix of Sporty and Scary.”

Felicity nodded. “That’s a good combo.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“You don’t approve of her? Is it going to be an awkward family gathering? Those are the only kind we know how to throw, I’m afraid.” She was on her own bag of gummies now. Felicity snacked with rapt attention on Dean. He kind of felt like a movie playing in a dark theater with an audience of one munching on popcorn, watching his every move.

“She’s a great woman. Good for Sam. It was just…”

Felicity popped another gummy in her mouth and waited.

“An adjustment. Not having him around.”

She tilted the side of her head into the seatback. “You two sound close.” A small smile graced her lips.

Dean nodded.

“I’m sure the visit will be lovely, then.” She tapped his knee. “You don’t have anything to worry about. After this flight, that is.”

He huffed. “Except for the flight back.”

“For Christ’s sake, I’ll hook you up with a few pills.” She rummaged through her purse again.

Dean placed his hand on hers. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart.” He watched her cheeks perk up and flush pink.

“If this little cottage you’re staying at isn’t too far, maybe you should stop by the Cafe one day.”

Dean smiled and barely noticed the next little bump of turbulence. 

*

A not so perfect landing onto the runway bumped and jostled the cabin. The inertia speeding them all forward had Dean drive his head back into the seat to counter the force. Contents in the overhead bins rattled along with his teeth.

“You're going to give yourself a bloody aneurysm. As red as a tomato. Breathe.” Felicity’s attempt to comfort sounded a little like a scolding. “Almost done.”

“Shit.” A high pitch screech, that sounded like brakes being applied, would have had Dean praying, if he was the praying type. His lids pressed tight, closed. “If I make it off this plane in one piece I’m going to kill Sammy.” A muffled voice spoke overhead and there were some scattered claps. “Was that God? Are we dead?” He mumbled.

“It was the pilot, you goof.” Felicity sighed. “All very much alive. No dangling limbs or severed heads to speak of.”

Dean lifted up one eyelid, slow and careful. Felicity was already on her phone as the plane taxied to the arrival gate. He looked down. His fingers had clamped on to one of her hands, held it hostage, cramming her long fingers together. “Shit. I’m sorry.” He released her hand, covered in white and red blotches denoting a lack of circulation due to a vice grip.

She gave him a passing glance and wiggled her fingers in the air. “No worries, I like it a bit rough.”

“Yeah? What’s your safe word?” A sudden weight lifted, Dean’s flirting mode kicked into autopilot.

She finished texting with one hand, then focused her gaze back on him with a grin. “More.”

A chuckle followed. “You’ve been a lifesaver. I feel like I owe you something.”

Her elbow propped atop the arm rest between them. She leaned in close, palm cradling the pointy chin. “I have some ideas.”

The absolutely absurd little fact about her business that she extolled earlier shot out of his mouth. “It just so happens eating a cheese sandwich in a Guinea Pig themed cafe is on my bucket list.” A symphony of belts unbuckling swarmed around them.

“It just so happens I run a Guinea Pig themed Cafe.” Both of her hands flitted to the task of opening a contact on her phone. “Here. Put your number in and I’ll text you the address. If you have to run away from all the festivities, let me know.”

He laughed at his contact name. First Name - Dean. Last Name - Green-Eyed Hottie. As he tapped away, he asked. “Do you need a ride? I can sweet talk Sam’s gal into dropping you off.”

“Not necessary, but thanks.” She was all smiles, watching him. “I must admit, I like this Dean immensely. Not that I didn’t like you before.”

“What Dean am I now?” He marveled at the speed of her fingers typing away. A buzz in his pants confirmed the delivery of her address.

“Relaxed. Confident. Bit of a naughty streak as well, I’m guessing.” 

He tipped his head. “That’s me, ma’am. At your service.” He rose along with the rest of the passengers. “I’ll grab your bag for you. Where’s it at?”

She pointed over to her original seat. It was every passenger for themselves, but Dean squeezed into the melee with ease. He did a twirl with his original seat sharer, Mr. Teddy Bear, who traded spots to grab his own bag. Dean chuckled, identifying Felicity’s bag with the tiny Guinea pig keychain attached to the zipper.

Another dash back and he dropped the bag onto his seat. He wedged into the tight foot rest space as people filed in line for the mass exit.

“My hero. Thank you.” Her eyes lingered over his frame. Dean did like it whenever he received a silent look of approval.

*

Felicity guided Dean to the baggage claim area. He didn’t want to hold her up, since she’d only had the one carry on. But she said she wasn’t in any particular hurry. Her long legs kept up with his strides. She was only a few inches shorter than him in her flats. He wondered how those legs might look in a pair of heels.

They talked about Christmas plans. She would be going to her father’s and stepmother’s for lunch on Christmas Day. She had an older sister who might stop by with her husband and stepson. There was a party at a friends on Boxing Day, the day after Christmas, which was also a thing here.

They continued chatting and flirting as bag after bag passed by them on the conveyor belt.

“Why did you check your bag?”

“Not much choice. I didn’t pay for preferred boarding and they called me up to the departure gate.”

Felicity nodded. “Ah, I remember now. The announcement that they were fully booked and wouldn’t have enough room for all the carry ons.”

“I wasn’t going to get bumped but they needed the space.” A sense of dread filled Dean as the belt was picked clean of luggage and slithered along. “Son of a bitch.” He marched over to the flaps where all the luggage had been expelled, bent down, and bellowed across the belt. “Hey! Lords of Luggage? Is that it?”

Silence.

“Don’t anger the Samsonite gods.” Felicity tapped his shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go file a report.”

*

“I’m gonna kill Sam.” Dean muttered, holding the paper with his lost baggage claim info.

“What are the odds that would happen?” Felicity shook her head.

“If only I had this kind of good luck.” Dean exhaled. “Thanks for offering to be listed as a contact if they find it and can’t reach me right away.”

“I may hold it hostage so you’ll have no choice but to pick it up at the cafe.”

He smiled at the mischief on her face. “Well, then I would definitely say my luck would be turning.”

“Joking. I’m not that diabolical. At least, I don't think I am. But, you’ve texted me the lovebirds address, so I might be able to drop it off.” They passed the threshold out of the airport. A busy, chaotic line of awaiting cars docked and departed. Ubers picked up fares. Arrivals were greeted with hugs. Luggage placed in trunks.

Dean sighed, missing his things. It wasn’t much, but it was his. “Well, I guess this is so long for now.”

“It’s been a pleasure, Mr. Winchester.” Felicity offered her hand.

“You’ll have a fun story to tell about coming to the rescue of a helpless American.” He shook her hand. A warm tingle shot up his arm.

“You are anything but helpless.” A flirty batting of lashes followed. “Good luck. And, Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.” He watched her turn and walk off, weaving through the crowd of people. She disappeared seconds later. 

Not long after he heard his name in the opposite direction. “Dean! Dean! You made it!”

Dean turned and locked eyes with the reason he was in merry old England. “Spitfire!”


	5. Driving Home For Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You collect Dean from the airport and Dean's newest crush shows up to save the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still wishing everyone Happy Holidays <3 
> 
> So, Dean is here now. I do feel like I've written him a bit OOC. Dean is not my jam, I'm much more comfortable writing Sam. But I'm chosing to pin any weird Dean behaviour on his bad day and feeling a bit out of sorts after the flight and being in a weird country. 
> 
> Next chapter will be the big day. Food and drink and festive fun. And maybe a fight to get Dean into that hat... ;-)

**And it's been so long, But I will be there  
I sing this song, To pass the time away  
Driving in my car  
Driving home for Christmas**

You tapped the steering wheel along with the music as you drove around the car park for a free space. You’d chosen the parking closest to the arrivals gate but that meant it was super full. You eyed the clock again. Dean’s flight landed about 30 mins ago if all was well. You were hoping to be able to walk in, grab Dean and walk straight back out to beat the early morning traffic on the motorway back home.

After a few more minutes of creeping around and swearing at small cars that looked like empty spaces, you found somewhere to park. You debated dropping Dean a text, but remembering his well-voiced complaints about flying you figured he wouldn’t be together enough to check his phone. You decided to drop Sam a text, reminding him to make up the spare bed and make sure he put Dean’s little welcome home gifts out.

**Y: Babe, just got to the airport and got parked. Gunna head in for Dean in a few minutes. Don’t forget to make up the spare bed, I put the bedding on the drawers in there. Dean’s slippers and dressing gown are in the top drawer. Oh and put some towels in there as well, the blue ones. Thanks hun!**

It took a few minutes for a reply, telling you Sam was probably still asleep and you’d just woken him.

**S: Babe, you know Dean doesn’t care about any of this stuff right? I’ll do it, but don’t stress yourself out being the perfect hostess.**

**Y: I’m not stressing. I want you to put sheets on the bed your BROTHER will be sleeping in because at the moment it is naked!**

**S: He’s slept in worse places.**

**Y: Our house is not the back of a car! Or one of those godawful motels from our twenties.**

**S: I’m just saying**

**Y: Make the fucking bed Samuel.**

**S: Yes dear :-P**

**Y: Don’t yes dear me. Bed! Slippers! Towel!**

**S: Yes dear**

**Y: I will murder you one of these days. I’m heading in for Dean, see you soon.**

**S: <3 **

You shut off the car and grabbed your phone and keys. The morning was crisp and chilly. A watery sun was hanging low in the sky and your breath clouded the air. You smiled as you set off walking. A little while longer and you’d be on the way home with Dean in tow. You’d missed him desperately in a way calls and facetime just couldn’t ease. It had been over a year since you and Sam had left America and the last time you’d seen Dean had been at the airport as you all tried to hold in tears.

You made your way to the entrance signposted arrivals. Knowing Dean he would head straight for the outside as soon as he could, so you opted to wait by the doors, figured you’d either see him or he would call you and finding each other would be easier outside than in.

You watched the flow of traffic in and out of the building. Couples coming out arm in arm. People going inside with glowing smiles. Parents coming out clutching children tightly. Children supporting elderly parents. Plenty of people crying as they entered or exited. It was a wonderful snapshot of human life and you found yourself being absorbed into it.

A gap in the crowd showed you Dean, shaking hands with a tall woman. They exchanged a few words before she departed and you watched Dean watch her leave. You smirked, there was a story there and you were about to trap him in your car for almost an hour. Plenty of time to get all the juicy details.

You stepped forward and called his name. Dean spun in the direction of your voice and cracked into a smile.

“Spitfire!” He announced as he stepped towards you. You flushed a little at the nickname, remembering the fight that had earned it. You walked towards Dean, meeting in the middle as he swept you into a bone-crushing hug. You hugged back as tight as you could, feeling yourself welling up at the feel of him, solid and real in front of you.

You broke apart and you wiped your eyes, hearing Dean chuckle next to you.

“Okay, let’s get in the car and head home. I wanna beat the traffic. Have you got everything?” You look around to find Dean’s suitcase but see nothing. “Uhhh… Did you fly light?”

Dean waved a piece of paper in your face. “Damn airline lost my fucking luggage.” He scowls at the paper.

“Oh love. Bloody hell you have no luck. It’s okay, it’ll turn up in a couple of days. You can borrow some clothes from Sam until we get it back. You’ve not lost your phone or wallet or anything though?”

Dean tugs on the straps of the backpack he’s wearing. “No, I moved the important stuff in here when they made me check my bag.”

“Okay cool, don’t stress. We’ll sort it. C’mon then.”

You both set off walking back to your car, only a few minutes away. When you spotted it you pressed the fob to unlock it. You’d got the door open and were about to get into the car when you saw Dean’s face.

“What? You wanna walk home?”

Dean’s eyes roamed over your car, looking more and more distressed.

“Dean? Get in the damn car.”

He looked up and locked eyes with you.

“Is this what you’re driving?” Dean looked genuinely pained.

“Yes? This is my car. So let’s go.”

“But it’s… modern and plastic-y and a _Ford_.”

“Yep, yes it is all of those things. Now get in.”

“If I’d known… god I’d have shipped my baby over here.”

“Dean, so help me god I will leave you in this car park. Get in the fucking car.”

He finally moved towards the door. You got in and slammed your door. Fucking car snob. You liked your car. It got you from A to B, plenty of storage, eco-friendly. But you knew all you were gunna hear about now is how you should have bought a classic, how much better classics are, all the virtues of his Baby. Dean slid in beside you and turned to throw his bag into the back seat. He turned back and opened his mouth. You cut him straight off.

“Dean Winchester if you say one word about my car, or your car, or cars, in general, I will leave you here and tell Sam the airport lost _you_! Shush.”

He closed his mouth with a clack and looked around the interior, grimacing. You ignored him, starting the engine and turning up the festive tunes. Dean looked like he’d rather be back on the plane.

You navigated your way out of the airport and back towards the motorway. It was pretty quiet for this time of the morning. Settling in for the drive you side-eyed Dean.

“So, who’s the pretty girl I saw you shaking hands with? Can you go anywhere without picking up a chick?” You smirked.

Dean smiled and launched into the story of Felicity, the girl on the plane. You laughed along in the all the right places and thanked the powers that be that someone had come to Dean’s aid on the plane. When you and Sam had been gearing up to ask him to join you for Christmas you’d settled on the idea of one of you flying out to meet him in America and fly back with him. You’d offered the idea to Dean who had turned you both down, insisting he was a grown man who could handle a flight.

Dean was finishing his story, telling you about some café the girl owned.

“Oh yeah, whereabouts? Anywhere local?”

Dean raised an eyebrow at you. “How should I know? I don’t even know where we are now.”

You laughed, “Alright fair point. We’re about 20 mins away from home now.”

“Oh, that was fast. Felicity said the place was in Dartmouth Park. Is that close?”

You mentally calculated travel times. “Uhh, it’s in north London. An hour and a half away from ours. Roughly. Sam and I were planning to ask if you wanted to take a trip into the city after Christmas anyway. Do a bit of sightseeing and touristy crap.”

Dean lit up. “Hell yeah! Uh, I mean, yeah sure. Touristy stuff sounds great.”

You smiled internally. Wait until you told Sam that Dean had a crush on the girl from the plane.

The last bit of the drive passed quickly as you pointed out landmarks to Dean on the way into the village. Dean perked up when you pointed out the local pub and even more so when you pulled over a minute later.

“C’mon big guy. Home sweet home.”

“You’re this close to the bar? Seriously?”

“Pub. Yes. Don’t worry we’ll be going for drinks on Christmas Eve for sure. Get out of the car.”

You were halfway to your door before Dean caught you up with his bag and a grin. You just got the door open before he was sliding past you.

“Sammy!!”

Sam’s head poked out of the kitchen, swiftly followed by the rest of him as he rushed down the hall to grab his brother in an embrace. They held each other like dying men and your eyes filled again as you watched them, stepping inside just enough to shut the door behind you. You kicked your shoes off and hung your coat up, then leaned against the wall. There was no room for you to move past the wall of man hug so you had to just wait them out.

After a few more beats they broke apart, grinning at each other. Taking your chance you spoke up.

“Okay gents, can we move the lovefest out of the hallway please? Dean do you want a drink? Sam?”

Both men nodded and gave drink orders as you shooed them towards the living room. You stepped into the kitchen to be the good hostess, smiling as you heard the animated voices rumbling through the house. Once the drinks were done you carried them through and put them on the coffee table.

“This gal is going back to bed for a nap. Some of us were up at the arse crack of dawn to do the airport run. So you guys have a good catch up and I’ll see you in a couple of hours.” You yawned. “Dean there’s some slippers in your room, Sam will show you. Don’t put those boots on my sofa or I will murder you.”

You lent to kiss Sam on your way out.

“Night. Well, day guys.”

Both men wished you a good nap as you left. You stopped by the spare room on your way, checking Sam had made the bed and put out everything you asked of him. Relieved you saw he had. You grabbed the slippers and tossed them down the stairs.

“Slippers at the bottom of the stairs Dean. Take your boots off!”

You heard Sam saying, “Just do it, man. She’s weird about shoes in the house.” One of the men stood and heavy footfalls came into the hallway. Pleased you turned and went into your own room. Within minutes you were wrapped up in your sheets and dozing off.

\---

When you woke it was mid-afternoon. You yawned and stretched, feeling a touch groggy after a long day time sleep. Nothing a brew and some fresh air wouldn’t cure. You threw on some PJs and padded downstairs, stopping to flick the kettle on before walking into the living room. You found the brothers on either end of the sofa, fast asleep. The room was warm and cosy, the fire crackling away to itself. You smiled and quickly snapped a photo of the pair before backing out of the room and pulling the door shut.

Back in the kitchen, you shut the door to the main part of the house and opened the back door so you could look out over the fields while you nursed a mug of tea. You grabbed a pad of paper and started making your plans for Christmas food. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve so you had meat in the fridge defrosting and ready to be cooked.

You sat in peaceful quiet for a while, listening to the birds chirp outside while you planned out what you were gunna cook, what could be pre-cooked, the sides for the main meal etc. You knew Sam, and probably Dean would pitch in but it made you feel better to have a plan as if you were doing it alone. Then you could better delegate.

You heard stirrings from the living room before heavy footfalls came into the hall. The kitchen door pushed open and Sam popped his head round.

“Hey sweetheart, you okay?”

You looked up and smiled. “I’m fine, didn’t want to disturb you both. You looked peaceful.”

Sam smiled, “Yeah it was an unintentional nap, but nice anyway. Dean’s phone woke me up.”

“Has he heard anything from the airport?”

“There was a missed call and a voicemail, then another call from a random number with a text saying she had his luggage and was on her way. That’s the call and text that woke me.”

“Ohhhh that will be his newest crush. Did he tell you about the _lovely_ Felicity?”

Sam frowned, “Yeah, some girl who babysat him on the plane. Didn’t tell me he’d given her our address though.”

“I think he didn’t want to bother us to drive him back to the airport to get his bag if it showed up. Silly boy, as if I care. I enjoy watching him struggle to keep his mouth shut about my car.” You and Sam laughed. “Well if she’s on her way, she’s only about an hour and a half away. Better wake him up and kick him in the shower. I’m sure he wants to look his best. Oh god.” You started to laugh. “Oh no, you’re gunna have to lend him some clothes if he gets changed. Do you have anything that will fit him?”

Sam thought for a second, “Only sweats or PJs. And even they’re gunna be too long. I can’t give him jeans or anything.” You both cracked up at the thought of Dean trying to fit into Sam’s jeans.

The kitchen door pushed open again and Dean walked in, running a hand through his short hair and yawning.

“Hey, guys. The airport called, they found my stuff. Apparently, it got sent over on a different plane and arrived a few hours after me.”

“Yeah we know, Sam saw the message from your luggage fairy.” You smirked.

“Ahh shit. Uhh yeah. Hope you don’t mind I gave her your address. I just panicked about getting my stuff back.”

You shook your head. “No, it’s cool. But if she comes back and murders us all, it’s on you. And I will haunt your ass.”

“I’ll take the risk. Also why the hell is the door open? It’s freezing in here. Do you people not have heating over here?”

You rolled your eyes. “I wanted some fresh air while you and Sam were playing sleeping beauties. I’ll shut the door and put the heating on, calm down.”

You stood at the open door, watching dusk fall and enjoying the feel of the crisp air before coming back inside and locking the door. Sam was already on his phone turning up the heat.

“Sam says he can lend you some clothes if you wanna freshen up before your fairy godmother of luggage gets here?”

Dean looked Sam up and down for a few seconds before sighing. “I hate you people. Stupid planes and airports and brothers.”

Sam slung an arm over Dean’s shoulder. “Aww, you don’t mean that. If you’re nice I won’t give you my PJs with the cartoon characters on them.”

Dean blanched. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Sam stared him down. “Try me.”

You watched the brotherly face-off go down for a minute before intervening.

“Gentlemen. Not in my kitchen please. Sam show Dean how the shower works and get him some _normal_ clothes, please. Dean, calm down. As soon as your stuff gets here you can change.”

Both men turned to face you. You cocked an eyebrow and waited them out. A long time ago you’d learnt your lesson about being firm with them to keep the peace. They both backed down and turned away. Feet on the stairs told you they were being good. You heard the shower start and a short while after Sam’s feet on the stairs.

He found you in the living room, turning the Christmas lights on and building up the fire again.

“Dean’s right. It is chilly actually. Did you give him decent clothes?”

Sam sprawled himself out on the sofa. “I did, plain sweats, plain shirt and that cream sweater. You know the one I bought when we first moved here and I was constantly cold. With the zip? I even threw a beanie on his bed since he wouldn’t stop bitching about the cold.”

You moved to sit on the sofa with him, throwing your legs over Sam’s. “You’re good people. Did you have a good catch up when I went to bed?”

Sam smiled, “Yeah we did. God, it’s so great to see him again. And he’s here for 2 weeks. Fuck I didn’t realise how much I’d missed him.”

“I know, it just feels right to be back together again. Maybe we should try and convince him to move over here too.”

Sam shook his head, “It’ll never happen. Dean wouldn’t leave America for anything.”

“Well, just a thought. Let’s not leave it another year before we see him again then.”

You fell into an easy conversation about plans for while Dean was with you. You told Sam about him wanting to visit Felicity’s café in London and Sam agreed that it sounded like a good idea. You were deep in discussion about driving vs park and ride into the city when Dean pushed open the door.

You and Sam both looked up as he walked in. Sam’s clothes didn’t look too bad on him. Grey sweats that were just a touch too long, but still looked reasonable. A dark t-shirt hid beneath a cream sweater that looked amazing on him. Dean had the collar turned up to wrap around his neck, with just a hint of chest and t-shirt exposed by the zip. He’d taken up Sam’s beanie offer and had pulled the grey hat down low over his forehead and ears.

He crossed the room to fling himself on the rug in front of the fire, cross-legged, with his back to the flames. You raised an eyebrow at him.

“It’s freezing. Why is it so cold?” Dean rubbed his arms with his hands.

“Old house.” You shrugged, “You scrub up well Mr Drama-Queen. You’ll get used to the weather.”

Dean shrugged self-consciously at your compliment. Since you’d missed the catch-up chat earlier in the day, you started asking Dean about his activities since you’d last spoken to him and catching up with his life sans Sam and you, plus updating him on your antics in England.

\---

You were mid anecdote about ‘The Time Sam Heard a Fox’ when a knock stopped you all dead. Dean looked faintly ill.

“Well go on, we’re not expecting anyone so it’s gotta be the fairy luggage-mother.”

Dean stood, brushed his hands over his clothes before walking out the door, making sure to shut it firmly behind him. You and Sam both laughed at his blatant request for privacy.

“What does he think we’re gunna do, sneak into that hallway and hide behind a wall to listen in? Oh actually…” You made to stand and Sam grabbed you back down.

“Leave him alone, he’s had a bad day. Give him his privacy.”

You both sat quietly, listening to the voice from the hall. Dean’s deep rumble and a higher female voice mixed. After a few minutes of conversation, Dean re-appeared in the doorway.

“Me and Felicity are gonna go check out the pub? She’s got a bit of time before she needs to set off back.”

“You can invite her in Dean, we know how to handle guests. Plus I want to thank her for helping you out.” You stood, ready to go meet his mysterious lady friend.

“No. Nope. I’m not letting you loose on her. Let me get to know her without thinking I’m gunna die first.”

You deflated a bit. “But… good manners…” You managed to sputter out.

“It’s fine. Besides, cosy village pub? Perfect place to work the old Winchester charm.” He winked at you. Sam groaned.

“ _Fine_! See you in a while then. We’re gunna order pizza soon, what do you want?” You sank back into the sofa, slightly miffed you wouldn’t get to meet the mysterious Felicity.

Dean gave you his food order and disappeared again, the front door shutting seconds later.

Sam pulled you into his chest, “Aww baby, denied. You know what he’s like.”

You huffed, “Sure, but it’s fine when he used to trample all over our privacy.”

“Yep. Welcome to big brothers.” Sam manoeuvred you into his lap. “But now we’ve got some privacy too. What should we do with it, hmm?” He rolled his hips up into you as he pulled you down for a kiss.


	6. Fairytale of An English Cottage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's finally Christmas!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! This is a bit late isn't it. I had all the best intentions to get this up before Christmas. But life took over. Then once the holidays were over, Covid messed up my country and I had to deal with that. 
> 
> Anyway! I'm marking this work as complete because I can't summon anymore Christmas feels right now. I had more planned for this chapter but I just could not make anything else come. I've tried to round it off and not leave you all with a sudden stop.  
> Myself or Drasna may come back and add to this later on. I might come back and post the sex scenes that faded to black in this chapter. But for the now, it's finished. So I hope y'all enjoyed Christmas with the Winchesters. I hope you feel I gave them a nice holiday that they sorely deserve. <3 
> 
> Chapter Title from A Fairytale of New York by The Pogues and Kirsty MacColl [link](https://youtu.be/j9jbdgZidu8)

** I've got a feeling, This year's for me and you  
So happy Christmas, I love you baby **

You woke up on Christmas Eve a woman on a mission. You had plenty to prepare and wanted to get started. You left Sam gently snoring into his pillow and went downstairs still in your PJs. Stopping in the kitchen to put the kettle on you found Dean sat at the table looking exhausted.

“Morning Dean, you okay?” You flicked the kettle on and pulled out two mugs.

“Freaking exhausted. Jetlag is kicking my ass.” He yawned. 

“Oh, you poor thing. Do you want coffee? Tea?” 

“Whisky?” He looked at you hopefully. 

“You can have coffee _with_ whisky. It’s Christmas!” 

He beamed at you and you set about making two Irish coffees before joining him at the table. You both drank in silence for a while, Dean yawning periodically and you looking over your lists for the day. 

“What’s that?” He pulled a sheet towards him. 

“Lists. Food I need to prepare today, places in the house I still need to clean, present lists to make sure I put everything under the tree tonight, people I need to call today, people I need to call tomorrow.” 

“Holy… Spitfire, you can’t do all this yourself.” Dean pulled more sheets to read over. 

“I won’t. Sam will pitch in, I’ll find jobs for you as well.” 

“So why are you up early to get started and Sammy is still in bed?” 

You shrugged, “I’m a control freak.”

Dean drained his mug and stood. You looked at him in confusion as he marched to the bottom of the stairs. 

“Sammy! Get down here!” 

You heard the thud as Sam jumped out of bed and the herd of elephants as he rushed down the stairs. Dean had left the door open so you could see him at the bottom of the stairs, hands on his hips and Sam appeared in front of him. He’d stopped only long enough to throw on some boxers and was running a hand through his hair. 

“What! What is it? Is someone dead? Bleeding?” Sam looked past Dean to catch your eye. You hid a smile behind your hand as Dean laid into Sam about leaving you to do everything while he laid in bed. Sam tried to protest that was going to help you when he got up and Dean shot him down again and again. Sam caught your eye again with a pleading expression. You shrugged, unsure how to stop Dean’s tirade. 

You were perfectly fine to let Sam sleep in, you knew he wouldn’t leave you to do it all alone and would get stuck into whatever you needed him to do. But Dean seemed determined to defend your honour, which you found very sweet. 

“So go get some clothes on, tie up your princess hair and come help your lady!” Dean was finishing his rant and turned away from Sam and came back to the table. You looked over his shoulder to Sam, who was standing in shock at the bottom of the stairs still. As you watched, he threw up his hands in defeat and started back up the stairs. 

You considered chastising Dean for his actions, but you knew it came from a good place and you knew Sam would handle it if he thought Dean was being too pushy. You drained the last of your coffee and stood, grabbing up your food list and moving to pre-heat the oven. 

Dean stood with you and held out his arms. “Well, put me to work.” 

You gestured to the table, “Grab a list.” 

He looked over the papers. 

“Nah, I’m not one for cleaning. Gimme your food list. I’ll knock your socks off.” 

You shrugged. Dean could cook for sure. If he wanted to sweat it out in your kitchen, who were you to deny him. 

\---

The day passed relatively quickly. When Sam came down, dressed, hair decidedly not tied back, you both made short work of the cleaning and tidying. Dean swiftly banned the two of you from ‘his kitchen’. Christmas music rang through the house and by mid-afternoon you and Sam were finished with everything. The house was spotless, the tree was overflowing with presents, and you’d made all your calls. 

You braved the kitchen to find it spotless and Dean sat at the table scrolling his phone. He looked up as you came in and told you everything was finished and either resting, in Tupperware or the fridge. Stunned you opened the fridge to find neatly organised plates and tubs with labels. 

“Holy… Dean, I’m never doing Christmas without you again. Thank you!” 

He smiled, blushing a little. “It’s nothing. Happy to pitch in. Consider it my thanks for having me.” 

You crossed the room to wrap your arms around him from behind, resting your chin on his shoulder, “You’re family Dean, you don’t need to earn your bloody keep.” 

He blushed a bit more and you decided to leave that train of thought there. 

“You gunna come chill with us now then? Regale us with the tale of last night and Felicity? We’re gunna eat and then head to the pub in a while.”

Dean stood, “Hang out yes, pub yes, Felicity no.” 

“Aww, Dean! I thought we were friends’ dude.” 

He clapped you on the shoulder as he walked past you. You’d get it out of him, you knew you would. 

\---

The rest of the afternoon and evening passed peacefully. You threw on some quiz shows and entertained yourself watching Sam and Dean try to outdo each other. You took great pleasure in throwing out blatantly wrong answers just to throw them, enjoying the identical bitch faces they would give you. 

You ordered dinner and cracked open some whisky to share. By the time you’d all eaten you knew you needed to motivate everyone if they wanted to actually make it to the pub by last orders. 

“Okay gents, show of hands. Who wants to go put real people clothes on and go to the pub? Or… who wants to stay home in their PJs and find out which Winchester brother is actually the smartest?”

Sam and Dean looked at each other and then at you. 

“Stay home.” They said as one. 

You settled back into the sofa, “You know it’s creepy when you do that right?” 

They both nodded and turned back to the current show, yelling answers over each other. 

\--- 

It was almost midnight when Sam shook you awake. You groaned, not knowing when you’d even dropped off. You looked around and everything was switched off. Dean was gone, but you could hear his footsteps in the bathroom upstairs. 

“Come on, sweetheart. Bedtime.” Sam smiled at you fondly. 

You stretched and yawned, “How long was I asleep for?” 

Sam held out a hand for you. “About an hour. Dean’s still jetlagged so I stayed up with him. He thinks he might be able to sleep now.” 

You nodded and took the proffered hand. Sam followed you through the house, double-checking the locks as you went to use the bathroom. You popped your head round the ajar door of Dean’s room to find him face down in the pillows, breathing deeply. You smiled and pulled the door closed as you left. 

By the time you’d climbed into bed Sam was climbing in beside you. You rolled over to rest your head on his chest, arm around his stomach as he ran a hand through your hair. A glance at the clock told you it was a minute past midnight. You reached up to give Sam a soft kiss. 

“Merry Christmas, Sam.” 

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart.” 

\---

You opened your eyes on Christmas morning to a face full of hair. Sam had wrapped himself around you in the night and was sleeping on your shoulder, long hair splayed out over your chest and face. Keeping as still as possible you craned your neck to look at a clock. Half past 8. A perfect time to get up and open some presents! 

Wriggling away from Sam and his warmth slightly you pushed his hair back from his face and shook his shoulder slightly. He groaned and buried his head deeper into your neck. You shook him again and this time felt the freeze then relax of him waking proper. You wished him a good morning and got a grunt in response. 

“C’mon Saaaaaaam! It’s Christmas, I wanna open gifts. Get up!” You gave him a small shove as you started to move out from under his limbs. 

“Alright, alright. I’m up. I’m up.” He stretched out under the sheet as you got out of the bed. You turned to face him and saw the tent he was making with the sheet. He saw you looking and smirked. 

“Yes, yes you are. Now put that away for later and get out of bed.” 

Sam rolled out of your side of the bed and came to press himself against your back. 

“Later. Do you promise? Cos you’re gunna be wearing _that_ dress and I might explode.” He rolled his hips into you, making you gasp. 

“Okay, we can have sex now while I’m still in my PJs and kinda gross, and Dean is probably already up and awake. Or you can rein in it and wait until I’m dressed and pretty and wearing _that_ dress and we’ve put Dean into a food coma.”

Sam rested his chin on the top of your head. “You’re always my gorgeous girl, no matter what you wear.” He spun you around and nudged you towards the bed again. “Let me show you how beautiful you are.” 

\---

On your way to the bathroom, you looked to Dean’s room. The door was open and the bed meticulously made. When you got downstairs you found him again sat in the kitchen. 

“Good morning Dean! Merry Christmas!” You crossed the room to hug him from behind again and plant a kiss on his cheek. He wrapped his arms around yours and squeezed.

“Morning, Merry Christmas.” 

You released him and went to flick the kettle on. 

“Coffee? Tea? Irish coffee? Something else? It’s Christmas after all.” You smiled at him. 

“Is sleeping beauty getting out of bed yet? Or did you wear him out?” He smirked at you.

“He’s getting up now, but I’ll tell him you asked after his stamina like a good, concerned brother.” You grinned back, long past being embarrassed around Dean.

“Okay coffee then. I wanna get started on the pile of presents. I figure at least 2 of them are for me.” Dean laughed. 

You pretended to think, “Hmm, I think I saw one that said Dean on it.” You laughed. 

You finished making 3 drinks and handed Dean his. Sam walked into the kitchen just as you were picking up the other 2 mugs and you gestured with your chin for him to go into the living room. You followed him and put the mugs down on the coffee table before flinging yourself to the floor near the tree and the pile of presents. Sam quickly lit a fire and you got Dean to turn on the Christmas lights. You sent Christmas music from your phone to the speakers and set about sorting the pile into 3 piles. 

“Okay, Dean first then. Open this one first.” You pushed over his pile of presents and pointed out a parcel on the top of the pile. Dean looked at you with glee and ripped into the wrapping. 

“It’s a… sweater?” He looked confused for an instant before he opened the clothing and saw the design on it. “It’s a Led Zeppelin sweater! You got me a Zeppelin Christmas sweater.” 

You winked at Sam. “We did. Put it on. Let me see if it fits.” 

Dean stood and pulled the jumper over his sleep shirt. He bounced over to the mirror over the fireplace and beamed at his reflection. “This is awesome. So freaking awesome.” 

You looked over at Sam, who was staring at his brother in shock. 

“I love it! Thank you!” Dean sat back down still grinning. 

“You’re very welcome darling, I’m glad you like it. You just cost Sam a fiver though. He bet I wouldn’t get you to wear it.” You and Dean laughed together. 

“Hard luck Sammy, your girl knows me too well.” 

“Yeah, you wait.” Sam pulled a bitch face for a few seconds before smiling at his brother. 

“Okay Dean, go crazy.” You gestured at the rest of his pile. 

You and Sam both watched as Dean unwrapped new clothes, hat and gloves for the ‘freezing British weather’, the impala decoration you had ordered – “Oh I am so putting this in my actual Baby.” Finally, the mixtape you had made and signed Sam’s name too. 

“A blank tape?” Dean looked between you both. 

“It’s not blank. We made you a mixtape for the car. I just didn’t write down the songs because I just want you to experience them as they come. It’s like a surprise.”

“Oh. Okay, thank you, hope it’s got some Zeppelin in there.” 

You just smiled, looking over at Sam. He looked back, a look of resignation on his face. You couldn’t wait for Dean to listen to the tape.

“Thanks, guys, these are awesome!” Dean grinned at both of you. 

You shuffled over and hugged him again. He squeezed you extra tight this time. 

“You’re so welcome Dean. And always welcome here. This is just as much home to you as it is to us.” You whispered in his ear before breaking apart. Dean turned his head away from you both for a couple of seconds, breathing deeply. 

Turning back with red rimmed eyes – not that you would ever mention it, he gestured at Sam, “Your turn Sammy.” 

You pointed out the parcel with Sam’s jumper in it and he opened that one first. Having already seen it before you wrapped it he just smiled, turned it to show Dean and then stood to put it on. It fit perfectly, just as you hoped. 

“There better be a sweater in that pile for you Spitfire, you better not be setting us up.” Dean was laughing as he mock-glared at you. 

“You’ll see.” You stuck your tongue out at him. 

Now appropriately dressed Sam set about his own pile of presents. He had gifts from your family there as well, mostly gift cards to places he loved. He also unwrapped new clothes, new books, also a new hat and glove set, some video games. Soon, he was down to the last two. One from you and one from Dean. 

“Open Dean’s first, I’m curious as hell.” Dean grinned at you as Sam attacked the wrapping to reveal a toolbox. When he opened it, he found it was fully stocked with most hand tools you could think of. 

“You’re the man of a house now Sammy. Gotta have a decent toolbox. I’d have bought you stuff for the car too but I didn’t know what you were driving and that thing your lady drives is not a car –”

“Don’t you start on my car, Winchester.” You interjected. 

“Jesus Dean. How did you get all this here? Surely you didn’t bring it on the plane.” Sam asked.

“Nah, been shipping it over in bits and pieces to your post office for weeks. Figured I’d find the post office when I got here.” Dean shrugged like it was no big deal. But you could see by Sam’s face this was a _big deal_. You weren’t 100% but this seemed to be a passing of the torch moment. Whatever it was, it was sweet and the silent conversation the brothers were having was touching. 

Sam coughed and cleared his throat. Dean’s eyes were red again as he motioned to Sam’s last gift. Sam ripped through the wrapping paper and froze. His head shot up to look at you and you grinned at him. He mouthed ‘seriously’ at you and you nodded, waving your hand to urge him on. Dean lent forward on his knees to look at Sam’s hands. 

Sam pulled the rest of the wrapping off and held up the booklet for Dean. The front cover was emblazoned with ‘Meet Your New Best Friend’ and inside were all the details of how to adopt a cat or dog from the shelter – the one closest to your village – and an appointment for Sam to come down and meet the animals. 

Sam’s eyes were shimmering as he looked at you. “Seriously?” He asked again. 

“Yep. We’re settled in now, we know the area, what better time. I called the shelter and they wouldn’t let me pre-pay for anything since you can’t gift a rescue dog or cat. But I booked the appointment and I’ll pay for all the adoption fees. We just gotta go and see who you fall in love with. Dog, cat, puppy, kitten, I don’t mind.” You beamed at him, pleased your gift was a success. 

Sam stood and crossed the room in an instant, he pulled you to your feet and wrapped you in a bear hug. Thankfully he stopped short of picking you up and spinning you around. He just squeezed you tightly and whispered thank you into your neck. You squeezed him back and pressed kisses to any part of his face and neck you could reach. Sam released you, making sure you were steady on your feet before he let go to sink onto the floor to sit next to you as you unwrapped your gifts. 

You sat as well and made a start on your own pile of gifts. You also had gift cards from your family, a monopoly game from your mum – who loved gifting you toys, despite you being a grown-ass adult, books, new boots, a few DVDs all from Sam as well as an expensive bottle of vodka. The last gift was from Dean and was wrapped up suspiciously. 

“Dean… did you buy me a dick…?” You held the gift up as Dean howled with laughter. “Dean… I swear to god…” 

Decided if he had bought you a fake dick you could always beat him to death with it, you ripped open the paper to discover two tumblers and a bottle of whisky you and Dean particularly enjoyed. 

“Ha! Excellent wrapping there Dean. Your reputation as a 12-year-old remains intact.” Putting the bottle aside, making a mental note to open it with dinner you removed the bubble-wrap on the tumblers to find them both engraved with spitfire planes. One baring your name, the other baring Dean’s. “Aww, that’s sweet, thank you, darling. I love them!” 

Dean smiled at you, “I’m glad you like them. This way you won’t forget me when I go back to the states.” 

You scoffed, “As if!” 

You all sat for a while, looking through your gifts. You and Sam comparing notes on who sent what gift cards and what would be the best things to spend them on, while Dean flicked on the TV in the background. 

“Okay gents. I’m gunna shower and get dressed. Y’all are free to shower and change, stay in your PJs, whatever you prefer. Jumpers are mandatory though.” Both brothers nodded and Sam went to grab a bag for the wrapping paper while you headed upstairs. 

\---

By the time you were back downstairs, fully dressed, with headband hat, the living room was tidy and both brothers were upstairs fighting over who got to shower first. You went into the kitchen and put on an apron to set about prepping the main meal. 

Sam came down first, finding you in the kitchen and trapping you against the counter. 

“There’s my beautiful girl. In her beautiful dress. With no tights.” 

He ran a hand up your leg, pulling your skirt with it until he came to the top of your thighs. “Fuck, do you want to kill me, princess? Walking around like this?” He ran his fingers over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. 

“You seemed to have an issue with the tights, so I went for something a bit less constricting.” You looked at him over your shoulder, biting your lip. Sam’s eyes were dark with lust. He bent his head to nibble and kiss your neck while his hand cupped the silk of the underwear you’d worn. You whined softly as you tipped your head back onto his shoulder, giving him more space at your neck. 

“Not where the food is guys! C’mon!” Dean’s voice sounded out behind you, highly amused. You and Sam froze in place before you started to laugh. 

“Ahh c’mon Dean, you’ve walked in on worse.”You snickered. 

“Not in the kitchen! Get out. Go do that someplace else. I’ve got food to prep.” You looked over to see Dean making a shooing gesture towards the door. You straightened up then and retrieved Sam’s hand from your skirt. 

“What, wait no. You don’t have to make dinner Dean, geez.” 

“I _want_ to make dinner. You have a bomb kitchen. So get out and let me do my thing.” Dean made the shooing gesture again. 

“At least let me help, you did all that work yesterday.” 

“Out!” 

You and Sam looked at each other and both made for the door, walking past Dean like chastised teenagers. Dean just looked highly amused. You handed him your apron as you walked passed, muttering “Bossy” under your breath. Dean smirked harder. 

When you and Sam were past the threshold, Dean shut the door firmly behind you both. You dissolved into giggles before Sam pressed you into the wall and held you there with his hips. Your giggles hitched into a moan as you felt his cock straining through the fabric of his sweats. 

“So, where were we, princess?” Sam whispered in your ear. 

You reached down to cup him through his pants, making him hiss. “Right about here.” 

Sam rolled his hips into your hand as he kissed his way up your neck.

“Bedroom?” He whispered. 

You squeezed him through the fabric, “Are you gunna get on your knees for me again?” His cock kicked in your hand as he pulled back to look at you, eyes dark. Without a word he grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the stairs. 

\---

You came back down a while later, rearranging your hair and headband. Sam followed, tugging his jumper back on. You could hear Dean blaring music in the kitchen and something smelled amazing already. You opened the kitchen door and peeked your head around. Dean turned to face you immediately. 

“You done now? All worn out?” He grinned at you.

“For now. Need any help?” 

“Uhh, you can set the table. It won’t be much longer now.” 

You and Dean moved around each other in the kitchen, him preparing and plating food and you setting the table with festive placemats, glasses and plates. You laid out crackers and the boy’s festive hats. You nipped into the living room to grab your Christmas whisky.

You re-entered the kitchen to find the table now laden with dishes, plates, bowls of all shapes and sizes filled with amazing looking and smelling food. 

“Wow! This looks amazing, Dean! I can’t wait to dig in.” You exclaimed. 

He shrugged, unsure what to do with your praise. You went to the kitchen door and called for Sam, who came immediately. He stared at the table in awe as well. 

“Okay gents, pictures.” You pulled out your phone. “First Winchester Christmas in England needs documenting. Get in shot fools.” 

Sam and Dean stood next to each other behind the table, arms around shoulders and both smiling widely. You snapped a few shots before gesturing to the hats on the table. 

“Hats now guys.” Sam grinned and grabbed his Santa hat while Dean looked around before seeing the elf hat on the table. 

“Oh no, nope.” He picked it up between two fingers. “Oh my god, it’s jingling. It that… does it have ears!?” He glared at you. 

“C’mon Dean. For meeeee.” You smiled sweetly at him. 

“No.” Stone-faced glare. 

“Please?” You pleaded. 

“No.” 

“For five minutes?”

“No.”

“Just for 1 photo?” 

“No.” 

Sam was sniggering in the background at your back and forth. But you had an ace up your sleeve. 

You shrugged, “Okay, then I guess I just keep the special beer I got from the local breweries for you for myself then.” 

Dean narrowed his eyes at you. “One photo?” 

You smiled, “One photo.” 

Dean eyed the hat distastefully before cramming it onto his head. He looked an absolute sight but you held your laughter in as you came around the table to stand between the men for a selfie. The result was a laughing Sam, a smiling you and a scowling Dean. As soon as the photo was confirmed acceptable by all parties he strode over to the kitchen bin and made a show of throwing the hat in. You and Sam laughed at his dramatics. 

“Thank you, Dean. I appreciate you joining in with family fun time.” You smirked at him. 

“Are we done? Can we eat now?” He stomped back over to the table. 

“Yep!” You sat down at your place while Dean filled glasses with wine. He grabbed extra and opened the bottle of whisky he had gifted you. Once everyone had drinks he also sat. You grabbed your wine glass and toasted the food and the company before clinking glasses with the brothers. 

What followed was a feast of a meal full of compliments to Dean, laughter, stories. You told the boys the tales of family drama from Christmases of your youth. Dean and Sam both shared stories of the things they had done for each other during the holidays. No tales of John came out at the table and you were grateful. You didn’t want to sour your own mood thinking of him. You’d rather be laughing at Dean’s story of ‘The Time Sam Cried at Santa’ – “I was 4!” or Sam’s tales of high-school-aged Dean trying to charm female classmates into bed with him using a ‘season of goodwill’ line again and again – “In his defence, it worked more often than it should have.” 

Between the 3 of you, the whisky was soon gone, and the wine. You stayed at the table until the bottles were empty and the plates scraped clean. By the time you made to stand your stomach was hurting from too much food and so much laughter. 

You and Sam forced Dean to sit while you both cleared the table. Once the dishes were done and the leftovers packed away, you all moved back into the living room and collapsed onto the sofa. 

“I am so stuffed.” You groaned, rubbing your stomach and thanking the gods you’d worn a dress and not anything with a waistband. Both men groaned in agreement. 

“Okay, TV and rest to let this food settle. Then I’m gunna kick your asses at monopoly.” You reached for the remote, flicking through the channels until you found one showing old British comedy shows Christmas specials. Hearing no complaints you settled back into the sofa and rested your head on Sam’s shoulder. You felt Dean huff a laugh next to you at the TV. 

Outside the windows was cloudy and overcast, leaving the world looking dull and lifeless. But inside your home lights twinkled in the windows and on the tree. A fire burned in the hearth and filled the room with dancing shadows and warmth. Sam wrapped an arm around your shoulder as you leaned more into his shoulder and chest. 

Later the three of you would wake refreshed and spend the evening drinking, snacking and fighting over board games well into the night. The house would ring with laughter and shouts of joy as all of you shed the weight of adulthood for an evening and lived in the moment. There was nothing outside the walls of your home and inside was filled to the brim with family and love. 


End file.
